


Breaking The Endless Cycle

by Dravanian, Micolash



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: AU where the paleblood moon bs broke and now its just NO BAD, Everyone is also alive because I want Happiness, Gen, I don't even know what to properly tag this as, Multi, Still bad stuff tho even if the endless cycle broke, There's literally everyone here, a lot of lore headcanon stuff t b h
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2018-12-24 00:37:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12001272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dravanian/pseuds/Dravanian, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Micolash/pseuds/Micolash
Summary: The endless cycle was broken by a young hunter and her friend. Starting anew with those they once had lost.





	1. The young Church girl

**Author's Note:**

> First drabble in the series of ongoing Bloodborne AU with my friend. Origins of Iieha and later down the road as to why she has such complications with her relationship with the Healing Church.

She never recalled much of the start of her years, it always seemed shrouded by a fog. Had she even a name from the start? No, not at all. They gave her a name when she was left at the door of the Church. She was unwanted in the world. There was no warmth from the embrace of a parent to their child nor was there the warmth of a fire in a home. All that she knew from the very start of her life despite the haze was a cold morning through Old Yharnam. The mist nipping at her face and making her cry. Oh, she cried quite loudly before there was a nun of the church who found the mess of blankets at the door. A terrible makeshift basket that had looked discarded from someone's trash. Another orphan in a town all too familiar with them.

* * *

  
"Iieha," said the child. She tugged at a shirt far too big for her, a make shift dress. Little shoes with one tied well and the other with laces sprawled across. She was gripping the bottom of her shirt, too shy to really speak. She was familiar with the people of the Church but she never wanted to approach.  
  
"Dear, have you gotten into a fight again?" Spoke one of the woman clad in back. Another by her side scoffed with an accusatory finger. "She'd gone and sent her fist rightly into the poor girl's nose!" The minister who overran the building could only rub his temples as she stood in the middle of the women. Another fight. How many now? Two, _three_ this week? It was getting out of hand. Too much misbehaving and even with enough discipline the girl would still not yield. "Eeha," the man's accent was thick as he spoke to her firmly. "Why is it you fight with the children? Are ya hidin' somethin' lass?"

 The girl only shook her head. "Child, speak when the minister talks to you." The accusatory woman folded her arms, a slight glare from the brim of her glasses to the girl. "I got angry at 'em...n' I hit 'em cause I was angry." Partly true. Of course she wouldn't tell the minister that they teased her again. Called her strange for always hiding in the shade of the roof and never playing with the children. Walking through dark passages alone, her idea of fun. They didn't like her. She was not like them. They said she wasn't normal. The kind one, a frown tugged at her lips. The accusatory one close to snapping as she roughly grabbed the girl by the arm almost hoisting her up. "They'll be no lunch nor supper for you! Now off, back to your room!" She gave the girl a could whap on her arse before the child fled off.  
  
They had to separate her from the other children at some point. She would get into tussles at night with the boys who'd sneak into the room. Of course she got blamed and treated an outlier. Her room was further away, down the hall from the girl's, and off into a small room. A very small room, former storage space. Still having a few of the boxes and her makeshift bed. The one thing Iieha enjoyed about this separation was the big chained window that overlooked all of Yharnam. The moon always shone the brightest through her window and it was a welcoming sight. At night she could hear the men of the Church out on the streets. She never could get glimpses of what they did but she was told growing up they were here to protect us. _Good, honorable men._ The kind nun would sneak a visit to the child, a special occasion Iieha took great care of never to ruin.

She'd be given a bedtime story from the nun, stories of the good men of the  Church from sometime ago. The kind nun would always get a chuckle when Iieha would often want to hear the same story again and again. A story of the first Church Hunter, an honorable Knight. Hailing from another country and formally knighted by its royalty, he brought his skill and passion to Yharnam. Recruiting the good men off the streets to teach them to fight the scourge that plagued the city. Stories spoke of a blessing he received from the Gods, a sword bathed in the touch of moonlight to fend off against the unholy beasts. Stories like this were told to the children and inspired them. The girl's eyes would sparkle in the moonlight when she thought of this knight from the stories. Strong in the face of danger. She wanted to be like that.

 

* * *

  
As the years would go by, many of the faces would disappear from the orphanage. Many adopted out by families. Their numbers dwindled slowly until those of young teens were left. Iieha the youngest of the group at fourteen. It was all the same and the minister had declared the girl unfit for a family. Too violent, impulsive, and un-respectful. Many of the children who remained were the unlucky ones. Families who took no interest in them. A silver lining as there was a future for them. They had the chance to move up, a man of the Church had come and spoke to the children. Children who had not found their families would be welcomed by the heart of the Church. They would be given their education, a home, and a place to stay.

The woman who joined the man’s side was the current Vicar. She did not speak much and her hands remained folded over one another. Silver locks that draped over her shoulders and a veil that would almost obscure her face. Iieha remembers her strongly for the beautiful gold pendant that was worn around her neck. The man continues to speak of the promises and warmth the Church could offer. If they continued their hard work they would rise in the ranks. They too could be Hunters of the Church. While as promising as it sounded to the girl something didn't settle with her. Was her life truly meant to be trapped at the Church? Why was it she was not allowed to make a life for herself. It wasn't fair. _It wasn't fair._  

 

* * *

  
The night came when all of those in Old Yharnam were evacuated to flee to the upper wards. The scourge had broken through and the people of Yharnam had grown beastly. Violent and horrifying, the cause unknown to them. She remembered the smell of the burning flesh and the smoke that arose from the city. A tale straight from their scriptures, had their beloved city become Hell? The girl was quick to try and pack all of her things. She could hear the rush of footsteps as the nuns rushed everyone out and began to check each room. She hadn't many belongings to her person and it was easy enough to shove them away. They waited for no one, the time to leave was now. With that in mind, she rushed the rooms to check for anything of value that may have been left behind.

Some luck her way as she found a few trinkets, possibly worth coin to pawn. There was a room she thought to check last. Quick steps across the floorboard led the girl down the hall and to the minister's room. Something of value has caught her eye in the moonlight that shone through the window. A necklace of sorts, it's shape was odd. Almost as a cross with a brilliant gem glistening in the center. A voice in the back of her mind told her to take it but not to sell. That it was something of great value and she should hold onto it. Trembling hands reached for its chain and as her fingers grasped it the sound of an explosion could be heard nearby.

She'd taken too long to make her escape and she needed to hurry. Down the hall she went and quickly jumping the stairs to make her exit. Her frame pushed against the door and she could see the fires that engulfed her city. The howl of beasts and gunfire kept her frozen. Something lurked and had been dangerously close to the girl. Her mind begged at her feet to move and as she turned to see what caught her eyes was something she'd dare not forget. 

T'was the minister or what used to have been of the Church for the orphanage. How could she tell to be exact, why by the human eyes that still lined his features and shreds of his outfit. Fur had rapidly exploded from his body and what seemed to be antlers slowly growing from his head. His body still lurching as an overgrown clawed hand reached for the girl. More specifically for what she had now around her neck.

The sound he made filled with a shrill of anger as he moved to attack the girl and she finally was quick to flee. It'd give chase to her, the minister now turned beast. Through the burning streets of Yharnam she was lost on her way trying to find an exist. The thing was catching up to her, it was too close. Was this how her life would end? Meaningless? Was that always how her fate was destined? Even when she finally reached the  Church that connected to the upper city the doors were slammed shut. She banged them with all her might that she may escape. The cry of the beast that made her ears ring and her spine shiver was now too close. 

  
_Too close._

_Too close._

_I'll die._

**_I will die._ ** ****  


The sounds of gunfire and a weapon that pierced through its chest brought the beast down to the cobbled ground in a blood curdling cry and pool of its own blood. She hadn't even noticed with her frame falling against the door as fists still pounded it weakly. The sound of footsteps finally reached the shaking child with a firm grasp of her shoulder. She shrunk as best she could, terrified of what it may be.  
  
"Goodness dear child, are you alright?" The man knelt down beside her trying to ease the girl gently from her fears. Realizing that he still donned a helmet that may not be best to show off to someone who's eyes came into contact with a beast, it was quickly removed and placed to the side. Strange thing it was in its triangular golden shape. Iieha finally turned, face red from the tears and slightly black from the smoke she ran from. She knew the garb this man wore. A good man, a hunter of the Church. A good man that rescued her. She wrapped her arms tightly around this man and pressed her face into his garb, sobbing loudly from the terror she experienced. He gently returned the gesture, his voice soft and welcoming as he comforted the young girl from her fears. "There, there....be at ease dear child. The beast is slain. Now," he coaxed her to stand but she'd not release the man at all. With a bit of a sigh he held the girl up in his arms, fumbling to push the massive doors open and close them behind. He's retrieve his helmet another time for his was far more important.

Slowly, he would guide her through the stairs, the faint sounds of people who lined the halls of the underground church could be heard. "Now, let us be off to find where you belong. Have you a family?" She shook her head in response and the man's brow furrowed. "Quite the dilemma...I believe we may not find those who take care of you then. Ah, there shan't be any worries! I am sure then that the Church has spoken with you from the upper wards? Perhaps to be placed--" she shook her head again and the man was at a loss. It seems she didn't want to be taken anywhere and he didn't rightly want to abandon the poor girl.

Upon reaching the upper streets the Cathedral Ward the city was a crowded mess in trying to help those who were lucky enough to escape the fires of Yharnam. Gently he set the girl down as well as her baggage and held her by the shoulders. Kneeling down he looked at her square in the face. "Well I cannot just leave you alone in such a mess. Please, do allow me to help you." After getting a good look at her, an item around her neck had caught his eye. Removing his right hand from her shoulder he went to gently grasp at the pendant around the chain and returned his gaze to her. "My child...where did you get this?" She felt her body froze. Now was not the time to lie but she decided to look him back in the eyes. "I found it in our Minister's room. He always wore it everyday. I was going to return it to him but...he turned into that beast. That terrifying thing..." he felt the shake of her frame from the grasp on her shoulder.

Nodding, he grasped his hand around the pendant. "The Good blood guides you..." he stopped for a moment to hear her name. "Iieha," is what was spoken gently. "Iieha, this is a very special pendant, do you understand? Clerics of the Church wear this. It's a pendant of honor for those in service of the Healing Church. It's design came from the very first hunter, Ludwig." The girl's eye lit up at the name and the man before her finally, after the long night, smiled. "Guard this safely, Iieha, and you will always be protected." He released the pendant and stood, offering his hand to the girl  
  
"Sir...thank you for saving me and helping me escape." She took his gloved hand and gripped it tightly. "But...what is your name?" He glanced down to the girl. Goodness how could he have forgotten! A chuckle and he spoke with gentleness. "Alfred, a good hunter of the Church. Now then, Iieha why don't we take you to the ward? I am sure they will help take good care of you." She nodded quietly as she followed with the man. After the night of horrors, the offer from before didn't seem so terrible. She would be protected by something that meant quite a bit to her. Perhaps she would slowly grow into the person she wanted and obtain her own life.


	2. The Sickly Scholar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet our second protagonist, wasting most of his life away in a hospital bed. A short visit home leads to disaster, as if his life could fall any further apart; and the allure of a cure-all tugs at his very core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place five years before the main bulk of this AU; making him 18 in this chapter. Don't worry, he acts like a brat here, but he grows out of it quite a bit later on. (Profusely apologizes for my bad writing)

“ _Useless_ ,” that’s what his father, Zhìxin, always muttered under his breath, forgetting (or rather, simply ignoring) that his son was far more attentive than he’d ever thought to give him credit for, “you come home and all you wish to do is sleep? You will go nowhere in life if you refuse to do anything with your free time.” It was obvious from the start, from the earliest the boy could remember, that his father never wanted a child. He never wanted that marriage, but to get away from home and into a wealthy lifestyle, he had to.

Lydia looked bewildered, tired eyes locked on her teacup as her husband berated their son-- who’d just been given the okay to visit home for a few days. Her accent soft, she tilted her head towards her son, who had the look of someone unmoved by much of anything, “how are you feeling, mon lapin?” She watched him cringe faintly at the term of endearment, and her eyes nearly watered-- when had he started to despise it?

“Not well,” he snapped, to which his father shook his head in irritation, “you ask every time, when you should expect the same.”

“Yes, of course,” she whispered, trembling hands gripping onto the handle of her cup. But she understood-- he was in so much pain, and he tried so hard to put on a brave face. There had to be something she could do; she didn’t want to lose the one good thing in her life to some illness that could not be pinpointed. “The doctors said you could only stay home for a few days, they wanted to--” she was interrupted, her son finishing her sentence exactly as she’d been saying it.

“Keep an eye on my condition,” he said in unison with her, though her ‘your’ was replaced with his ‘my’. His gaze tilted upwards, just his eyes, sharp, striking olive that were not unlike her own, though hers held a warmth that his had long since lost. “I am aware,” he continued, his irritation evident as his least favorite topic was that of his physical health, “I’m the one _living_ it, remember?”

Lydia’s face lit up with embarrassment in response; of course, of course he was aware. But it was so hard to speak to him; she had to try. “I-I,” she stuttered, pausing to compose herself, though the rattling of the teacup on the saucer in her hand took place of it, “I heard from one of the guests of a miracle cure in a city called Yharnam.” Both Zhìxin and Cyrus rose a brow, heads now turning to look at the redhead, and she inhaled sharply as her eyes darted between theirs. Skepticism, of course, it sounded so far-fetched but her heart ached so deeply for them, that she’d do anything in her power to help them; regardless of how they treated her. She nodded slowly, “he spoke of something called blood ministration; said it could even bring someone back from death’s doorstep.” Exhaling softly, her eyes darted down once more as her husband rolled his eyes.

“They’re only out to wring money from those who know no better,” the older man lowered his eyes back to his notes, ever diligently working; perhaps working himself to the grave. “A miracle cure-all does not exist,” he twirled his pen in hand briefly before leaning forward to dip it into the inkwell, “for once, try not to be so foolish.”

Neither of them looked back up to Lydia, and for that she was thankful, tears welling in her eyes. She didn’t think ill of him, though sorely she wished she could have done anything right by him.

That was the last he’d heard from her; that evening she’d packed a small bag for herself. With a kiss to her son’s forehead and not a word of where she was headed, she set out to Yharnam to see with her own eyes if this would be something that would help. Cyrus couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye, something he would come to regret.

He took charge of the inn for the few days he was home, and afterwards, he returned to the hospital-- not a word to his father; and perhaps a little worried that he’d not heard back from his mother. Granted, he couldn’t blame her if for once she’d reached a tipping point and hadn’t wanted to speak with either of them. The turn of events led to a very lonely walk back to the clinic; and while he could have taken a carriage, he chose instead to enjoy the gentle rainfall. Unbeknownst to him, it would be the last time in a long while that he’d be on his feet. 

* * *

Consciousness came and went, and for a few weeks, Cyrus could barely lift his head. Be it the new medicines the doctors wished to test on him, or his body choosing to give up; there was no seeming rhyme or reason-- just ongoing haziness. He’d lost all grasp on time, and it seemed that whenever his eyes would open, only darkness crept through his bedside window.

There were voices, though it never occurred to him that they weren’t of his dreams. Everything bled together seamlessly, but none of it made sense-- it wasn’t until one of the nurses and a concerned looking constable stood by the boy’s bedside with box under his arm, that he tried to shake himself back into reality. They must have been watching him for some time, and the nurse had her gentle hands on his shoulders, trying to wake him with urgency. For once, his eyes decided to focus, and his hands agreed with his mind enough to allow him to reach for his glasses.

Propping himself up, the boy looked up at the two in evident befuddlement. “Am I under arrest,” was the first thing his distant voice could manage-- though it was a fair question, as he’d never been approached by an officer before; least of all at his own bedside. The nurse and the constable exchanged glances, and quickly, he shifted the box into his hands, holding it out for the confused patient for him to take.

“You’re Lydia Durant’s son, Cyrus, correct?” the older man asked, and Cyrus was quick to furrow his brow and nod slowly, his stomach in knots, his heart thumping hard in his chest. With an apologetic frown, the man bowed his head, “there’s no easy way to tell you this, your mother was found dead.” The boy’s face went stark white, and his eyes darted down to the box in his hands. “A letter was found on her body, on the streets of Yharnam, it was addressed to you,” he wrung his hands nervously, watching the boy’s fingertips dig into the sides of the box, “it was the only way anyone could confirm her identity.”

“How could she be so stupid,” he whispered at the realization, lowering his head so that his forehead was pressed hard against the cold wooden lid. It ached, for but a moment, and his immediate response was to bury his feelings. The nurse reached out to place a hand on his shoulder once more, and he quickly recoiled from the touch; hands quick to pry open the case he'd been given. Inside was a crumpled letter, and a parcel wrapped in brown paper and twine. Both were addressed to him.

He tore open the letter, hands trembling as his eyes quickly scanned the contents. His mother’s trademark handwriting, dainty and soft, the smattering of her mother tongue throughout, and the heart wrenching opening of ‘mon lapin,’ caused the young man to gasp softly. She wrote that Yharnam put a fear in her that she could not quite understand; she wrote that everyone treated her so poorly because she was an outsider, but that it was okay, as she found what she’d gone there for and was excited to send it back home-- she had hoped that sending it before she left would get it to him before she came back. At the end of it, she remarked that he may already be in the hospital by the time it arrives, but that she would come to visit, and even take time off of work to do so.

Looking up at the two at his bedside, and then back down at the parcel, he shakily pulled open the twine and unfolded the paper-- inside were three vials filled with a threatening red liquid. “I don’t want them,” he whispered, swallowing hard and folding the paper over them once more. He folded the letter and placed it atop the parcel, lid of the box closed tight as he quickly shoved it back into the hands of the constable. “I do not want them,” he repeated, lowering his head into his hands, glasses pushed up as his palms rubbed his weary eyes. Cyrus did not respond after, no amount of questioning could get him to. The constable turned to the nurse and muttered an apology for stressing her patient, before he left to inform Zhìxin of what happened.

_Blood ministration._

He said he hadn't wanted the vials, but the thought remained in his head, boring into his brain. It was almost as if the idea called to him, and as the hospital grew silent for the evening, Cyrus found he could no longer stay. Kicking his legs over the bed, the boy was quick to tug his clothes on, nearly stumbling as he swayed towards the door. If he was caught, he’d surely be dragged back, so he did his best to slip away unseen-- perhaps addled by his newest medication, his mind not entirely there, the boy stupidly braved the halls and much to his surprise, was able to leave the building without catching any attention.

The crisp evening air stung, piercing his thin overcoat as he tugged it tighter around himself; he’d find a carriage this time around, and he’d head westward to Yharnam.


	3. Memory from a Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A memory of a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short drabble written with Iieha and Ludwig in the Hunter's Nightmare.

The sounds of labored breathing and movements of bones echoed within the room. Towards the edge of the room we're two figures that lay close to one another in the blood that pooled around. The severed head of a disfigured beast that did all it could to remain silent. Next to him the young hunter whose knees were brought to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around her legs, and face pressed into her knees. She'd not move and perhaps if heard closely the faint sobbing from the girl could be heard echoing around the room.  
  
A terrible battle this was, the poor young hunter barely stood a chance against the beast. Her frame too small and easily thrown into the ground. To try and parry a sword of legend seemed impossible. How her own blade did not snap in two was short of a miracle. It shouldn't have been like this, she would tell herself quietly. The continued repeats of apologies were evident but to whom were they for? Quietly, a voice beside her spoke, labored and raspy. "Sweet child....you mustn't weep. You need not bathe in blood." The voice that slowly hit her ears came from the severed head that lay beside her. She couldn't look at him even as she spoke to her. Such an odd creature it was. The tired neighing that came to get her attention further. "I had to hurt someone I admired since I was a child, of course I'd cry." Her voice stung as she pulled her face away from her knees to look the opposite direction of the severed head. "I felt protected, they told me I'd be watched over by someone so strong, and yet..." she fought back her tears again, swallowing the lump she felt in her throat as she talked.  
  
"You have spoken to me, dear child, and allowed me to be at rest. _Ah...is it not enough?_ That you granted me release from the nightmare?" The young hunter shook her head. After what felt like an eternity, she finally pushed herself from the bloodied pool and stood before the severed head. Her clothes were dripping with the muck and the soft sound of the drips echoed in the room. She undid her glove and tucked it aside as her hand reached past her vest to pull out a necklace. Holding its emblem tight for a moment, she held it down to dangle in front of the head.  
  
" _Where...?_   Where did you get that?" He spoke in surprise. Even in the dark of this chamber the gem had reflected closely to the sword that wedged itself into the ground. The very same moonlight. "I've...had it since I was young. When the minister of our orphanage turned into a beast, I found this in his office. I...I was always told stories about Ludwig, the great Knight who was a Church Hunter. I admired him and...and I wanted to be protected by him." The girls hand trembled as she held the necklace out, her tears threatening to pour from her eyes. "I would never want to harm nor kill you, but I was so scared. I was terrified. I barely fought back until I had to," her hand released the pendant and she felt herself crying. "I'm so sorry all of this happened.."  
  
There was a tired huff, perhaps in slight irritation but more so laced in exhaustion. "You have told me that I did not suffer for nothing, yet why do you wish to suffer yourself dear child? There is no reason...you have done no wrongs. Your heart is in the right place. Please, dear child, wipe your tears. I am at rest and thankful for the kindness you have given me to be free from this place."  
  
She bit back her tears and nodded to the creature. Slowly, with boots trailing against the blood she knelt down. Despite all the disfigurements of the man she was not afraid. How many beasts had she seen? Far too many. Reaching forehead she pressed her head against his own and spoke something quietly. What may have been spoken perhaps only for the man himself to hear as his breathing slowed and eyes had closed.  
  
Perhaps the self same prayers the hunters of the Church had uttered she spoke the very same to him. That he may find his rest in the afterlife and find his redemption from Hell.


	4. My Home, Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years have passed since Old Yharnam's fall. Iieha now has been given the chance to find a home away from the Church.

How long had it been? Time practically flew by when Iieha stayed within the Healing Church since Old Yharnam fell. She recalled the kind gentleman who helped her get on her way. Sir Alfred is who it was. A man of the Church for sure but by a different sect. Like clockwork by the end of every week he would gift her with a small gift for all her hard work. Be it her studying or training it had always been the same. Some sort of sweet honey bread, a small book from the local shops, or the one time he purchased her now favorite and very worn pair of boots. At the age of fourteen she cherished the time but four years had come and gone. Now she had to make a decision at times she felt she regret.

___

"S'that it? You're leavin' then? For what!? Where you gonna go? You're just gonna ditch all the years we spent together?" The taller dark skinned man tried to regain his composure. Fidgeting with frustration and his hands moving wildly with emphasis on just how bothered he was. The smaller girl just the size of Iieha did her best to keep an arm linked with his to calm him down. "You promised we'd stick this out! We said we'd be huntin' for the Church together n' you're throwin' it away!?" Iieha crossed her arms and kept her gaze steady on her friend. "This is my choice, Briggan! I just can't stay here for the rest of my life! This isn't the way I wanted things to be and...it's not fair for me. I wanted to make my place somewhere!" Briggan was practically trying to move closer to Iieha despite the other girl's protest in holding him back from letting out all his anger. Teeth were bore as he growled under his breath. Betrayal was written all over his face and Iieha could only return the gaze with a heavy frown. "You're just betrayin' us! We said we stick it out together since the orphanage and you're bein' selfish!"

"Briggan, please--! We do not need to fight about this." The other's girls soft voice pierces through the man's frustration and finally his demeanor had calmed. Daggers instead had pierced through Iieha's very soul. "S'fine Meryl, I'm done here." Gently he took the girl's hand and lowered his head to speak softly. His back now to Iieha he wouldn't look at her as he began to guide the blind girl away. "Don't come cryin' back when things don't work out for you." Iieha stood there in silence and lowered her head. She hadn't expected that bad of a reaction from her friend but knew it would have happened. The three of them had been together since the time of the orphanage and were the last seemed unfit for adoption. Briggan and herself swore they'd become Church Hunters together to protect Meryl who was now in the process of becoming a Blood Saint. Perhaps now it had sunk in that she betrayed not him, but Meryl.

Hands went over her eyes. She recalls just how sleepless the night for her was after the argument.

  
____

The midday sun was peering through the pillars of the Church and now came the active bustling market of the day. If there was one thing Iieha had done with her job at the Healing Church is was to work alongside those who aided the city of Yharnam. The monthly Hunt would draw by soon and Iieha volunteered often to help the workers of the Church to supply its citizens with the incense they'd use to ward off the scourge beasts. As always Iieha was handed a parchment of paper with a list of the addresses she would visit. She'd finally grown accustomed to the winding streets and was able to learn all the quick shortcuts to take. Yharnam always felt so much larger than the old city and it took quite a while for her to learn all the routes.

In one hand was the list while the other held a closed basket with bundles of light sacks carrying the dried herbs that would be burned throughout the night. Today, she was given a different route than she was normally used to. Often she would be sent through the Northern part of the city but this time she would be in the central. Perhaps her favorite spot as everything in central Yharnam felt bigger and closed off. Worn boots would click against the cobblestones as she'd stop from door to door with the deliveries for their patrons. Her face was unfamiliar to the residences but the smile she offered was more than a welcoming sight. She'd receive her thanks from most and lucky at times a small tip. One small detour wouldn't be bad, she thought. A quick trip to the small bookstore nestled between two other shops. She'd enough tips to hopefully purchase a book her mind had been after.

Alfred had brought her one ages ago about the region far more north than Yharnam. Nestled against rolling green hills where the limestone would form along crashing waves; the home of the Fae. A little fairy tale she read about entering the fairy world had always been her interest as a young girl. This time she wanted to learn more about the different types that inhabited the northern lands. Eyes drifted and she caught a book to add to her small connection. Setting the basket down she skimmed quickly through it and took note of the Fae she’s not seen before. A perfect find. Bringing it up to the counter she gave the bookshop keep her coin and was quick on her way.

The path would lead her to the central plaza of Yharnam and with the day still early she would take a small break from her deliveries and sit at the fountain to read her new find. Iieha began with the passage that spoke about the Church Grim and the black dogs. Spirits who signify death while the other is watching over a particular Church. She could only wonder if at night the shadows that quick lurked may have been dogs that aided in keeping the scourge beasts away. The thought had her tilt her head and think of her friend Briggan. He could be very much akin to one with the attitude he had in regards to the Church and her. An hour had gone by when she realized just how engrossed she became in her book. Right, she still had deliveries to do. The plaza was her last stop thankfully so she made her way around the various doors of the houses delivering the incense and finally she stopped at the last one.

The townhouse seemed a fair bit larger than some but still nestled closely to the others that surrounded it. She knocked on the door and received no answer. Leaving the incense by the door was never the smart thing to do. The danger of someone possibly stealing it was too great considering it was given as donation equally by the Church. For now she sat beside the entrance of the door and returned to her book. She found herself caught on the section of the Brownies. Little Fae helpers of the house. Perhaps if I can get a small place of my own and I place out cream…

Her mind snapped back when she heard the gentle voice of a woman call out to her from above. Looking up from her book she was greeted by a woman in a dark dress, blonde haired tied tightly behind in a bun, and a vibrant red brooch that held her shawl in place. Iieha quickly closed her book and stood. “Ah...you must be from the Church.” The woman’s voice was soft and she motioned to the basket by the girls side. “Would that be the incense then? I do apologize for not being home and having you wait outside.” Iieha shook her head in response. “Please miss, it's not a problem at all.” The woman approached her front door with keys in hand and began to unlock it. “Care to come inside for something? It is the least I can do for having you wait outside for sometime.” Iieha looked around for just a moment. This was the last stop so it wouldn't hurt. Nodding, she joined the woman inside and waited as she worked with the various locks. The house within was warm and inviting. The sun shining through the barred windows lit up the house to reveal its cozy interior better. It became obvious that this was a family home.

She set her basket by the door and still kept her book in hand as she followed the kind woman into the kitchen. Sitting down she watched her with curiosity as she began to reheat the kettle. Taking her own seat beside the girl she took note of the book. “You've interest in folklore? May I see it?” Iieha nodded and the woman took the book from her. Blue eyes looked at the title as she slowly turned each page. “The Fae...how interesting.” She couldn't help but laugh gently as she skimmed. “My husband shares these tales with our children. Often as bedtime stories, they originated from his home in the north.” She smiled as she stopped on the page of the Church Grim. “I remember his face when my youngest said he was giving a story about himself when he spoke of he black dogs.” She was trying her best now to laugh at the comment made by the woman. “I suppose it was because of being a Hunter of the Church.” Iieha tilted her head now and leaned in a bit closer with interest. “Oh? Your husband is a Church Hunter? What was his name? Ah, sorry for asking, I uh...well I stay at the Cathedral’s Ward and I just wonder if maybe I've heard the name.” With a tilt of her head as she closed the book she nodded to the young girl. “Ah, my hunter, his name is Gascoigne.” The name didn't ring any bells in Iieha’s head. She shook it in response. “Guess I didn't but that’s alright.” The two seemed to humor one another and hold a conversation for sometime. They shared a few things about themselves here and there and exchanged their names. All in all it was good company for Iieha to finally talk with someone outside of the Church.

Viola took note of the sun quickly setting and ushered the girl out of her seat. “It's getting quite late I'm sure you must be needing to return back now.” Iieha hadn't even realized just how much time had passed. She cursed under her breath lightly and realized that she’d be scolded for staying out as late as she did. “Best I do. Thank you kindly Miss Viola for the hospitality.” She bowed her body forward slightly and was quick to head out the door once Viola undid the many locks. Iieha glanced overhead and took note of the shortcuts she would need to take. The back alleys into the Cathedral Ward were placed she tend to avoid. The sun had already disappeared through the alleyways as the girl approached. With the empty basket now held against her chest she descended the many stairs to find her path back. The heels of her boots clicked quickly against the cobblestones as did the pair of others. She wasn't alone. Her speed picked up and as she rounded the corner her body collided with a set of white robes. Trying to sidestep away her path was blocked by another set of the very same robes and she was pulled back by black leather gloved hands. “Ah ah--! Where do you think you're running off to? You don't want to chat?” Iieha bit down on her lower lip and elbowed the man away.

“Leave me be, Lucius. I'm trying to return back to the Cathedral. Haven't your own business to deal with?” The man shrugged in response. All that was visible of his face was the lower half that kept that annoying grin while the upper was covered by a ornate leather hat. “Aw don't you want to chat? I overheard some interesting things today, you know.” He pushed her forward and the woman in white robes turned her around with a hearty laugh. “Briggan and you be having a spat was it?” He moved forward and grabbed the girl by her chin and made her look up. “You aren't truly leaving the Church, are you? After everything they, we’ve done for you?” Iieha grabbed at his wrist tightly and glared at Lucius. “It's none of your concern. What happened was between us and the fact you've been eavesdropping shouldn't even surprise me.” Forcing his hand away she shoved herself out of the woman’s grip. “Now if you'll _excuse_ me I have to return.” Annoying, all of them. All his friends were nothing but harassers because of their ranks. She couldn't stand him or any of his companions. Her thoughts rambled on just as she began to step away but the back of her blouse was pulled and the basket dropped to the ground. “Dear me, did you truly think you'd get off so easily like that?” Lucius chuckled lowly as the woman and another one of his companions in the same robes stepped out of the shadows. They kept close to Iieha as if she was helpless prey to them. “I do believe little dirty orphans need a reminder of just who their masters are and how they should be thankful for what we give them out of the kindness of our hearts.”

They pushed the girl around and laughed in her feeble attempts to fight back. She knew playing so deep into their trap would get her nowhere but being pushed around and goaded did nothing to remedy the situation. She'd shout and fight back, practically knocking the other male off his feet and into the ground. Lucius would retaliate to the action with a fist across her lip. Even as the blood began to drizzle down from the wound, she'd bear her teeth and throw her punches back at Lucius. He grabbed her roughly by the front of her hair and leaned in close. “The dog should not bite back as it's master’s hand, you ungrateful bitch.” Both were readying their last punches to each other's face when the echoing sound of steel was slammed against the cobblestones. The sound resonated deep between the group as it came through the alleyway. A dark figure even seen in the distance towered over the group with little effort. Lucius kept his grip on the girl’s hair as his female companion quickly moved away to their friend on the ground. Out from the shadows had come a man clad in the black hunting garb of the Church. Iieha could have sworn for even in that moment it was Briggan but this man was far taller than anyone she’d met. There was a growl coming from his throat and now with what little light was left from the sun had hit through the alley and revealed the figure. Lucius’ own grip was starting to lighten as he watched the man approach the group. His voice was low and rough like sandpaper when he spoke up, gesturing to the group. “Ye Church hounds beatin’ on another innocent is it? Could report the whole lot o’ you for this.” Iieha kept her gaze steady when she only shifted it to take a look at the man. Tall and foreboding, you couldn't even see the man's eyes due to the bandages that covered them. Had to be a sign of the scourge. Foreboding as the black dogs of the Church grounds. Lucius finally released the girl’s hair and put his hands up in mock surrender.

“You've nothing to report us for, Hunter. We were merely doing our jobs as it should be for the Healing Church. This dog simply came and attacked us and--” the man growled lowly in response and stepped forward. He gripped the collar of Lucius robes and held him up slightly. “Honeyed words will be gettin’ you nowhere. Ya hearin’ me lad?” Lucius frowned heavily and urged the man to release his collar. He scoffed at how his white uniform now dirtied. Motioning to his companions he simply glared at the Hunter and to Iieha before taking his leave. The girl remained quiet for sometime before she picked up her basket. What was she supposed to say? Thanks for another person of the Church saving her? She didn't like the place to begin with.

“Thanks, I suppose.” She rubbed the back of her hand against her lip to wipe up the excess blood. She didn't want to say anything and the taller man simply shrugged in response to her. They both stood there in silence. Iieha wanted nothing more than to not go back and it almost seems as if the man could read her mind. “Ya can stand around all night if ya want or you can be comin’ back with me so we can get that cleaned up for ya. Up to you, lass.” She felt frozen in place. Whatever she decided she'd get in trouble for the next day regardless and decided to take the man up on his offer. She turned finally to face him. He only motioned for her to follow suit and she kept close through the now early evening through the alley ways.

____

What. Iieha’s mind blanked when she took the path with the Hunter and found herself back to the central plaza with the giant fountain. She was now right back at the house she last visited and was baffled. Iieha quietly stood behind the towering man as the door was opened and revealed the very same woman she spoke to earlier today. “Welcome home, my hunter.” Her voice was gentle as she reached up with a hand to press it against his face. “Dinner is just about ready. The girls are with Henryk for the evening--” she was hushed gently as he stepped inside and now revealed the girl that was hiding behind him. “Found a lost pup on m’way home. We’ll send her on her way ‘morrow.” He gestured to her face and she could only stared wide eyed. This has to had to have been her husband then. Oh. ...Oh. Viola was quick to usher the girl quickly inside and get a look at her face as the hunter locked up the door behind her. “Goodness, what happened dear? I assumed you'd be on your way back to the Church…” Iieha nodded and retold the encounter to the woman who could only sigh and cast a tired gaze to her husband. “I'm thankful that my husband caught you before it could get any worse. Iieha, dear, let me try and get that cleaned for you. I cannot believe people you've worked with would do this.” She sighed heavily and took Iieha gently by the hand to lead her off.

She had her lip cleaned off and checked for any other injuries that could have been hidden by her clothes. Leaving the girl now with a quilt wrapped around her in the family den she spoke to her husband in a hushed tone. Despite the girl’s tiredness she could overhear the conversation briefly. She spoke of how kind she was in bringing them their incense and her husband grunting when he mentioned how it was he came across her. Iieha herself was too tired to pay much mind to the rest of the conversation and found herself now lying against the couch with the quilt tightly wrapped around her. It felt so warm and inviting to be in such a house. She often dreamt of a place like this when she was a child in Old Yharnam. The dream of when a loving family would come and take her away from such a place, offering their home to her. A place where she would always feel safe. She was quietly ushered back to reality when Viola had been gently calling her name and sitting now beside her.

“You seem to be feeling much better. We’ll be sure to let you rest and send you off in the morning. I'd prefer if I could escort you back...have you the address of your residence? I'm sure your family must be worried sick.” Family. Right. The quilt was wrapped tighter around her as Viola exhaled and rubbed a hand against her back. “I live over in the Cathedral Ward, I don't have a family to return to though. But,” she grew quieter. “I would prefer not to return back. I…don't want to, not after what happened.” The woman could only sigh, baffled as to what to do with the situation. “Have you any relatives you could stay with?” Iieha shook her head. She was already adamant about having to return back to the Church. Even a wooden crate at this point seemed far more inviting. Hells, if she could sneak back through Old Yharnam she’d gladly stay there despite the scourge infesting it.

An idea came to Viola and she hushed the girl gently before standing and making her way back to the other room to speak with Gascoigne. “Yes I know my hunter, I only met her this afternoon but it would feel wrong of me to send her back there if it puts her in danger like that once more.” The Hunter sighed with a roll of his shoulders and arms folded across the kitchen table. “I wouldn’ be wantin’ to bring trouble back to our home, love. The last thing I’d ever want. Do ya truly trust this church girl?” His voice sounded worn and while the question meant no harm it still had the slightest agitation to it. Viola merely shrugged and reached her hand over to gently place it over her husbands. “If she agrees to the terms I would sleep better at night knowing I wouldn't be putting a young woman in danger. Besides, I'm sure the girls would enjoy the company of someone like her.” The Hunter sighed in response but brought his wife hands up to his lips and pressed a kiss to them. “If ya trust her then m’give her a chance. Fair?” Viola nodded and pulled away from her husband and returned to Iieha’s side. She sat on the end of the couch and pressed a hand against her back again. “Iieha, would you feel safe in our home? We have a way around back, up some stairs to an old spare attic room we could offer to you. You'll need to clean it out some but it sounds like it may be more of a home for you. All I ask is that you're willing to pay a little sum of rent, is that alright? Not much but so long as you can find some work within a month we will open it up to you.” She was smiling and could see the girl's eyes peek from the quilt. Her gaze looked far more different than it had earlier today. She looked relieved, almost stunned by the comment. Viola took the sudden silence as agreement but her eyes spoke for herself. “Get some rest for the night, mm?” She stood and moved to gently pat Iieha before taking her leave.

It was an odd feeling, to have a sense of want from anywhere in the world. Eye half lidded as she pulled the quilt tighter around her form. Something about this perhaps came far too late in her life for it to hold the same importance she yearned for as a chucks. Nevertheless, it was still wanted and Iieha would make the best of the circumstance she found herself in. A home I could call my own, even if I'm just a tenant...it makes me happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delayed update. Writer's block and handling the drop of FFXIV's 4.1 patch drop. Got lots of new inspiration so hopefully more updates soon! 
> 
> As for the chapter, Iieha is eighteen when this all occurs. Briggan is Micolash's OC along with Meryl while Lucius is mine. Inspiration for the storybook came from the anime release of my favorite manga The Anciet Magus Bride.


	5. Hunter's Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An odd dream stirs Iieha into asking to learn the Hunt.

The petals from white flowers danced across the air as those below were crushed through various quick footsteps. Blood slowly painted them red. It was as if all sounds had ceased save for the labored breathing of a young girl. She pressed her blades further into the hunter’s chest. The spittal of blood coming from his mouth as he struggled to talk. A rusted curved blade was nipping at her throat.

“Why---Why will you not awaken? What would you gain from this drunken hunt?” The voice of the hunter spoke. He wheezes in as the blades twisted further through his chest. Shaky hands said otherwise by the young hunter who held them tight. Her head lowered as she struggled to talk. “I cannot...I cannot,” she struggled to say through muffled sobs.

“How can I when I couldn't save anyone?”  
_______

Winters were never too severe in Yharnam, but the artic air of the far north came down this solstice and brought the chills through the city. A year ago when Iieha first stayed she remember the season to be much more forgiving. When her eyes shot open from her dream, she huddled her blanket tightly across her. That same dream again, was it? It always seemed to be the same thing. A field of white flowers with the moon hovering overhead as if wanting to collapse. Too much symbolism in a dream, she thought. She had began to think maybe it was time for her to ask. It'd been on her mind for months and even when she swore she'd never do it at the Church, something had stirred within her to say that she must.

When her feet met the wooden floor she was greeted with a terrible chill. It didn't come across her mind as to just how cold the morning was. Her breath seen as she exhaled and furrowed her brow. Right, forgot to leave wood in the fire. Of course and now the room was an ice box. Moving about to throw on her stockings and skirt, she last left her long blouse for last and tucked it in. Boot on and she was ready to quickly sneak into the house her room was attached with. With the opening of the numerous locks against the door she was greeted with the chilly morning of Yharnam. It seemed whatever rain they had the day before had now frozen over and left the city in an icy landscape and of course the blood of the hunt spilled about and slowly frosting over. Had it really been that cold the previous night? Right, she needed to be inside. Her knuckles banged against the door lightly and finally she was greeted with the warm air that flowed in the home. Quickly she was rushed inside before the locks were set in place again.

Viola held Iieha’s hands and frowned to the girl. “Did you forget to light the fire again?” There was irritation in her voice and she sighed, guiding the young girl over to their fireplace. “Please you must remember otherwise you'll freeze to death. Now, stay by here and warm a bit, alright?” Smiling, she pulled away from the girl and made her way out of the den and back to the kitchen. Iieha had been living with the family for a year now. While she did rent the above place by doing small odd jobs around Yharnam she did feel as if she was welcomed as a part of their family. In Iieha’s mind she looked at it like a cousin who'd be staying long term. It was nice of course when she could watch Viola’s two daughters. They were nice girls the both of them, probably more manners combined than Iieha seemed to possess at times. The oldest sister had noted just how brash Iieha could be when a member of the Church came across them in the markets.

“Hidin’ down in Yharnam? What’s the matter with you!” 

And of course that fight broke out when Iieha punched him clear in the nose and quickly ran out with both girls’ hands in tow as they came back from the markets. She had a smug look on her face when they ran off, the eldest recalled. The youngest of them always did point out how Iieha seemed to be a mess when she returned home in the afternoon. “Did you run through bushes?” she’d giggle and ask for Iieha to lower her head and pick out a few leaves from her hair. 

Iieha was quick to practically devour her breakfast while the girls had commented she should really slow down otherwise she'd choke on her food. She waved it off with a grin on her face. “Miss Viola…is Gascoigne around?” She would ask with a tilt of her head once she brought her dishware to the sink. “Ah…my husband should be in his study. Do tell him the food is ready, he's been holed up in there since he returned from the Hunt.” She shook her head with a shrug of her shoulders. “Honestly if I never spoke up he would simply forget to eat.” Iieha laughed quietly and excused herself from the kitchen. Now from the outside their house seemed small but within it was rather large. Iieha knew the study was down the hall and around the corner, a bit bigger than the den. It was an open room and Iieha could even remember the first time she saw it. A handful of weapons lining the wall, some paintings of what Gascoigne commented was were from his homeland, tools here and there for when he needed to fix his weaponry. Oh and the books, she remembered the musty smell of the bookcase that held books; scripture, folklore, and general reading. From his homeland he was an educated man on the verses of the scriptures and retained that when hunting with the Church. “But how can you read them if you're blind?” Was her first mistake on getting on Gascoigne’s bad side. He corrected her with heavy irritation that his eyes had become too sensitive for the light. Of course he left out the bits that the scourge had plagued his eyes and he could just see the shadows of shapes and some colors still with them. 

When she entered the room the lamp was still lit and she could see the beast of a hunter sitting at a stool by the table working on the blade of his axe. He’d taken it apart and worked on cleaning it to be sure the pieces that connected it worked proper. Taking in a deep breath, the girl balled her hands into fists and marched over. She pressed both her palms onto the wooden table and exhaled what had been on her mind for sometime.

“Gascoigne, I want to learn how to Hunt.”

The old hunter took a moment before his head turned to face the girl. While his expression may have been hard for her to read, he scoffed with a rather quick reply. “Whassat now, lass?” He set down the axe’s blade and lifted his hand as he spoke to her, the other still holding the cleaning cloth tightly. “If ya want to Hunt then how much knowledge of do ya have of it?” He awaited her reply as she stood there almost blank in the face. She knew plenty about the Hunt growing up in the Church. What she didn't want to say was that she was going to be trained as a Church hunter and that made her stomach churn on itself. She didn't reply and the hunter gave a hardy laugh in return to her. “Eeha, what has brought this on, hm? M’curious. While I wouldn’ discredit a female bein’ out on the Hunt, you never seemed the type to me.” He stood at full height now from the stool and practically dwarfed Iieha in size. He couldn't see her expression in turn but the atmosphere was quick to change with her frustration being written all over her face. “Don't chastise me like some child!” She folded her arms. “I want to learn, is it so hard to ask?” He extended an arm out and placed a large hand over her head, gripping it a bit tightly. “You don't just go runnin’ in without the proper knowledge on how to survive, ya understand? That's how foolish Hunters end up dead.” Her frustration subsided and she let her arms fall to her side. “Sometimes yer too stubborn for yer own good,” he laughed deep from his chest and ruffled her hair before stepping away and looking for something in the back of the room. “Why don't you tell me the real reason why you want to Hunt.” 

Iieha wondered if she could mention the dream to him. While the symbolism in itself was strange enough perhaps the basics of it would be good enough. “Something is drawing me to it. I've had the same dream for months, similar but just different areas of it but it's always the same. It's a secluded off garden filled with white flowers that carry a calming scent.” When the Hunter found what he was looking for he seemed to have frozen in place slightly. Just the small ‘Aha’ caught Iieha off guard as he approached back to her and handed her the hilt of a knife. “Then you've seen the dream, have you?” She tilted her head as she grabbed the knife from him and held it to her chest. “The Hunter’s Dream, lass. Think of it as...our folklore, for the Hunters. If yer seein’ it then perhaps it's callin’ to you.” He stepped back and motioned with his hand. “If it has been then let’s give it a try, shall we? You want to Hunt? Then we will learn and I will determine if it suits you. Bring the knife close to me, aim as you would when huntin’ a beast. M’sure you've seen enough from your lit window.” Iieha frowned, so he had caught her spying when Hunter’s came by. How embarrassing. She took the knife in hand and pressed her palm against the top of its hilt and held it steady. She rushed forward and Gascoigne was quickly to simple move to the side as she stumbled forward. “You've poor posture and stepping, lass. Won’t do you any good. Miss your mark and the beast will have your hide.” He motioned for her to repeat again and the very same happened again. He laughed as he watched her struggle and hold the hilt of the knife until her knuckles went white. “Don’t be expectin’ coddling either. You learn from yer mistakes and go from there, you understandin’ me, lass?” Iieha frowned heavily and didn't respond.

She felt like a fool, like she was being mocked. Of course she still had her basic training from the Church but all she knew how to wield the basics of was a pistol. She never expected to have to fight close up. The thought of it made her blood boil when Gascoigne spoke up for her to do it again. It would just be the same every time. In her mind she grew further frustrated at herself. I'm not quick enough, I can't go back because I can't move fast enough. Why, it isn't fair. It's not fair to have this beast of a man make fun of my mistakes. I have to be quicker. Something sprung within the girl for when she took her next step, Gascoigne was taken back by her sudden disappearance. His senses heightened and adjusted to the situation when he moved to the side, the blade scarcely missing his shirt. She stepped again around and he moved just as quick but he began to take note that something wasn't right. 

She was panicking. From Iieha’s perspective it felt as if everything had slowed down and it was not returning back to normal. Her heart pounded madly in her chest as she kept moving from side to side far too quick for the man to get a hold of her. “M-Make it stop! I-I can’t stop!” And for her she was seeing something else. The images of her dream flashing through her mind and that man again. No...she hated that man with all her heart. What he said to her, it made her blood boil further and she wanted him dead. She took the knife as she did in her dream and aimed for the very figure she assumed was that. The old hunter reacted as quick as he could and got the blade in one hand while the other roughly grabbed at Iieha’s blouse to bring her back to reality. His hand shook as the blade sliced through his skin and blood began to pool around it. Iieha’s eyes were widened and she struggled to catch her breath as she felt the wind was almost knocked right out of her. Her grip on the knife released as did Gascoigne’s to let it fall on the floor.

He knew damn well what it was she did. He'd read about it and even heard of the ability through the Hunter’s who perfected the technique passed down through them. The art of quickening which originated from the Vilebloods. Surely she wasn’t but the stench of her blood had told him otherwise from the very day they met. He kept his bloodied hand to his side as his free one brought Iieha close to him, trying to calm the girl while she returned to her senses and caught her breath. “Easy, easy Lass. Slow breaths, M’right here.” When the calm washed over her, the smell of his blood was strong in the air and he hushed her quickly, keeping her close. “Pay no mind to that, understand?” His voice was low as he felt the girl’s grip around him. “Sure you had quite the scare. We’ll work on that. You have the potential but lack the control.” He sighed and rubbed her back. It was like having a third daughter in his head, having to calm her down like this. He'd never seen the poor girl have a fright like this before and it did catch him off guard. He hushed her quietly before pulling away when he felt the surge of fear had left. Moving away to the back room he was quick to bandage up the cut around his right palm. Deal with it later, he told himself. Iieha meanwhile kept her arms folded close around her with her body shaking when she saw the blood on the floor. He placed a hand on her head again and sighed. “Bit of a mess but not somethin’ I'll be mad at you for. Don't linger on it, what's done is done. Now don't be lookin’ like some scared pup. Eyes up and look when m’speakin.” She brought her gaze up and listened quietly to the Hunter. “I'll be teachin’ you then. We’ll work together to get you better control over that technique of yours, aye? We'll improve the rest of ya for the Hunt as well.” He ruffled her hair and pulled his hand away, trying to offer the shook girl a warm smile. She nodded quietly and finally spoke. “Thank you, Gascoigne. I'm sorry--” he replied with a gruff in his throat when she apologized and she bowed her head again. “I-I mean I'll do my best to learn with you?” And there was his hearty laugh again once she corrected herself and now she too was smiling. He meant well she knew that much and knew that he would be a good teacher for her. 

Their laughter was interrupted when Viola stood by the entry way with arms folded, her huffing some lose strands of hair out of her face. “Ah, love…” he was quick to offer a crooked smile to her as she rolled her eyes lightly. “My fool of a husband would rather go hungry and be holed up it seems.” They both laughed together. “Love, you know how I am. I'll be there shortly.” She motioned with her hand and kept a smile now. “And what’s all this if I may be so bold to ask?” He kept Iieha close and his smile turned into a grin of sharpened canines. “Little pup wants to learn how to Hunt, so m’takin’ her in as an apprentice.” Viola could only shake her head to him but she'd not fault him for it. “And here I remember so long ago you were hesitant to trust her. Well, I am happy for you both then. Don't take my Hunter too seriously, I believe he does that enough already for himself.” Iieha laughed quietly and Gascoigne could only scoff at the comment before guiding Iieha to the doorway. He leaned over to press a kiss to his wife’s cheek. “Just need to clean up and I'll be with you all shortly.” Viola nodded and brought Iieha back with her to the den. They talked for sometime before Gascoigne had joined them. Now the two of them didn't mention anything that happened and he thought it for the best.

Her training for the Hunt would soon begin and Iieha herself seemed more anxious than ever for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!   
> I'm excited to get back into writing. The next chapter will finally begin to take place where the rp between Micolash and I began so I'm very excited about Cyrus' involvement.
> 
> I have a headcanon that quickening was a trait specific to the vilebloode due to Maria and the Bloody Crow using it. I wondered if the technique was passed from Maria. Either way, Iieha has little idea that she herself is a vileblood at all which will be revealed far later down the road.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	6. Her hunter tools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gift of two important tools Iieha has kept close to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short chapter I've been trying to write for ages.

She stood on the tip of her toes, an attempt to look over the tall figure and see what he had been tinkering with. Iieha was dwarfed in size by the tall hunter and the impatience began to shown as he continued to block her way. A hand blindly reached out before covering the girl’s face with a muffled sound. “Lass, would ya calm down a bit?” A huff before she pulled the man’s hand away and return to her seat in his study. 

It had been a few months since the young girl asked the Father to teach her of the Hunt. Mind her, she had basic knowledge of it due to her training in the Church. It took a bit for the old dog to wring that knowledge out of her. She wasn’t ignorant, no, but she was far too impulsive for her own good. Even as he practiced with her he’d scold her for not thinking before she acted. A repeat of how he once said foolish hunters who do not think will jump to their death. Iieha was a quick learner but again, too impulsive for her own good. A trait she fondly remembers being scolded for when growing up in the orphanage. With sometime, the old hunter called Iieha to join him at his side. Eagerly jumping up from her seat she went to take a look at the product he created.

Gentle fingers traced the circular shape of the pendant held together by chain. She held it at eye level curiously as the old Hunter listened to her. It was a surprise, really. How this blind man with callous fingers could work as delicately as he did with this piece of metal. “Whatever is this?” She held it up to him. Slowly his hand reached out to grab at the chain and brought his fingers down. “Censer, thought you’d know the name.” She frowned and looked. “It’s much smaller than what the Church uses,” he spoke as she talked, “Aye, but smaller and better for Hunters.” His fingers felt for her hand to guide them to a small piece of metal poking out. “Ya pull that down ‘n the spark will start. For a young hunter as yerself you’ll be needin’ the masking from the beasts. I’ve no use for the old thing so better it be gettin’ some use.” Fingers pushed it close to the girl as she clasped it against her chest. With a nod and release of the others hand, she wore it around her neck. “Just to be safe then.” “Or in yer case, cause yer an impulsive sprat.” Gascoigne laughed lowly through his throat while Iieha merely shot him a look he couldn’t see but he felt. 

“Y’got that now, so let’s be givin’ you one last thing.” He motioned for the girl to sit back down as he went off to retrieve an item for her. Idle hands spun the chain around her neck as she waited. A small wooden chest was placed on the table as Gascoigne took a seat across from Iieha. “Been collectin’ dust for sometime but I think ye’ll enjoy it.” The chest opened and the sound of metal hitting against metal lightly echoed the room as the old hunter held up what seemed to be a rusted and damaged bell. Iieha squinted lightly. “Whatever is this?”

“You ever hear o’the tales? When growin’ up m’sure. Part of the hunter’s folklore you could say.” He shook the bell and the rusted ring was heard. “We Hunters carry a bell around, it helps us stay connected with others. Tale goes that once ya be seein’ the dream, the bell resonates with others. The bells hear the silent ring of a hunters and ya ring it when ye feel yer in danger. Understand, lass?” The old hunter held out the tie of the bell wrapped around the top of it to Iieha which she carefully took in hand. “But, don’t you need this? You’re still a Hunter!” Gascoigne laughed loudly and shook his head. “Been handlin’ things on m’own for a while now. Ah...circumstances you could say. Better off that way. A young hunter as yerself would do well with this. Connect with other Hunters, Eeha, n’learn from ‘em.” 

She gave the bell a ring and the old hunter before her was silent. Her eyes remained locked as she noticed the sound picked up to him. While he wasn’t facing her directly she could almost feel like he was. “Connect with other hunters” she repeated to herself with a nod. “I’ll try my best to do so.” Now the old dog was smiling and reached out to ruffle her hair. “Atta girl, you’ll learn quick. Got faith in ya.”

——  
The bell resonates and connects you with hunters, as she remembered. Even being on her own and lost as she had become the old hunter would find his way too her and even so, she found her way to other people. Connections come and go, even with her rusted old bell she found her path that was lost in the fog.


End file.
